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My Friend the Mars Bar

The wastepaper basket in my room was a disgrace last week. I am not ashamed of the cotton buds or the credit card bill envelope or the Durex wrapper, it’s more about the shiny slippery papers that once covered chocolate-related products.

The collection ran into double figures.

What the bloody hell came over me last week? It was one long, unthinking, barely-tasting chocolate binge. I kept wandering to the vending machine at work, stopping at the corner shop on the way home. And again, it was all secret scoffing. I kept walking back and forth to the office fridge to discreetly break off chunks of Mars.

I can’t even blame it on PMS, it was pure piggery. Monday night I sat there reading the King Size Twix nutrition information and realising I’d just eaten 20 grams of fat in five minutes. I looked across at the overflowing basket and said out loud, what the hell are you doing?

And it’s such an insult to my body, after all the effort I’ve been putting into Julia’s running program. The first session was fun, I went out with my sister who’s decided to train with me. It’s mostly walking at this stage, you must remember I’m a slug who took the past six weeks off exercise (lifting a shotglass full of vodka to ones throat doesn’t really constitute a bicep workout) and has never run before. The second session was even better because we set out at 6.15 AM. The early morning sun was beautiful and the park was empty aside from us, so I didn’t feel all embarrassed about moving around. And I felt all energetic and smug all day, since I’d got the exercise out of the way already.

Monday’s session was fantastic. We walked along the canal, something I’ve not bothered to do before, so now I’ve discovered a whole new part of town. It’s so brilliant being outside, talking to my sister, getting some fresh air. I am trying to take it slow to start with, my muscles are tingling in all new ways and places, but in the good way. I want this to be a long-term project, not some fad I get sick of after a month.

But all that effort is pretty pointless if I am going to eat like a pork. I was so weak and sluggish on my Saturday and Monday sessions. My concentration was non-existent. One is not meant to eat a pound of chocolate in a week.

I am forcing myself to stop and think about what I am doing. This week I’m tracking my food, something I’ve neglected to do since March. I’m drinking my water and I ignored all the cakes sitting across from my desk here at work. I have left all my cash at home so I can’t use the vending machine. This week I am aiming for baby steps in the right direction.

I am still trying to figure out what prompted my binging. I was so deliberate and calculating about it. Do you ever feel like you’re so eager to be skinny and tap into the sexy clothes and supple flesh, but part of you is afraid of missing out on something if you don’t stay fat?

7 thoughts on “My Friend the Mars Bar”

Are you inside my mind? The closing question in your post has been haunting me all weekend (resulting in the glorious weekend binge)So I have an answer for you. Yes…I do. There was a point a couple of months ago that I thought I was not afraid anymore. But I still am you know. I am afraid I will miss The Reason. And who am I to live without The Reason?! See, when something goes wrong at work, it is because I am fat. Because if I was looking all perfect in my business atire who would dare oppose me huh?. When something goes wrong in my marriage it is because I am fat. Because if I was not fat I wouldnt feel bad and I wouldnt get these moments when I want to just be left alone and not communicate with a single soul, even if this soul is my wonderful partner who has never thought or said anything bad to me. If something goes wrong with a friend it is because I am fat. So yes, I have everything worked out. All bad things happen because I am fat. There is not a chance in life that nothing will never go wrong. Something will go wrong, Murphy said it and proved it too! So, if I am not fat anymore, and things still get wrong and bad and stressy and ugly I might have to come up with a new reason for this. Am I afraid to loose this comforting and oh so familiar reason? Because you know, when shit happens because I am fat, it is not my fault. Cruel heartless people treat me bad cos of my size. Not my doing misus I swear…
Lately I am facing this very fear and working towards it. I have to admit things about myself and it aint easy. But then, being fat aint easy either! I refuse to remain fat for the sake of argument!

P.S. I dunno how your posts always make me write an essay!!!! I think tis because I’m fat huh? 😉

Hey chick….just letting you know I’ve read your last couple of posts….you write so well…I’ll be back for more. Your progress is extraordinary and truly inspirational. We all have bad Mars bar attacks….I too have had similar experiences. And the whole time you’re scoffing these fat/carb/sugar indulgences into your pie hole, you’re questioning yourself – WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING? My response is always “Oh Stuff it” but ghee am I sorry later. you’ve come SOOOO far….so don’t beat yourself up about this hiccup. Just get back on the wagon girl! Mel x

I still recommend “Confessions of Reformed Dieter”. I’ll even send you a copy 😉
Because if nothing else, the story tells of just how different the world can be between when you’re fat and less fat. And from what I can tell… we’re not gaining much by staying at the upper end of the scale.

i think the difference between ‘fat’ and ‘less fat’ varies according to my mood! i mean, with 60 something kilos are gone, some days i feel like a completely new person, full of confidence and discipline, ready to take on anything. other days i feel like i haven’t lost a bloody thing i am still the same big sack of no self eseteem that i was before.

i guess that means no matter what size i am, there’s going to be good days and bad.

would love to read that book, jovey gal! sounds like a cracker. i nearly bought it in Big W before i left oz, it was only $8, now here in the uk it’s £7 which is about $20. Gotta love that exchange rate 🙂